


Words

by Rakshi



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-04
Updated: 2011-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-26 21:59:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakshi/pseuds/Rakshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Waymeet's 'my baby just wrote me a letter' challenge. Sean and Elijah struggle to find the words they need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

\- Words -

Date: Fri, 02 January 2009 19:49:49  
To: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
From: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
Subject: ?  
Message:  
?

* * *

Date: Sat, 03 January 2009 07:00:44  
To: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
From: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
Subject: What?  
Message:  
Was that a message? Are you ok? What the hell, Elijah.

* * *

Date: Thu, 08 January 2009 02:15:11  
To: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
From: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
Subject: (no subject)  
Message:  
It’s all the message you deserve, fucker! Just checking if you were still alive. What the hell yourself, Sean.

* * *

Date: Mon, 12 January 2009 11:24:08  
To: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
From: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
Subject: Why…  
Message:  
….are you up so late? Where are you? And I’m sorry I haven’t seen much of you, Elijah. Truly I am. It’s been hard lately. You’ve been pretty busy yourself… and things have been pretty bad at home. Actually not that great outside of home come to think of it. I didn’t want to see you or write to you just to whine and whimper.

* * *

Date: Mon, 12 January 2009 18:32:16  
To: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
From: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
Subject: I’m always up late.  
Message:  
Sorry you haven’t SEEN much of me?

Try ‘Sorry I’ve ignored your every e-mail and phone call for the past month’! Or even ‘Sorry I’ve responded to you by saying something monumentally stupid like ‘I thought you were out of the country.’ when you knew damned well I wasn’t.

>> I didn’t want to write to you just to whine and whimper.

Why should now be any different? I’m used to hearing you whine and whimper… and what’s more you know it. Knock it off, Sean. This is just such bullshit. You’re avoiding me. Jesus, the least you could do is be honest about it.

>> Where are you?

Like you care.

* * *

Date: Tues, 13 January 2009 14:18:15  
To: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
From: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
Subject:  
Message:  
>> Like you care.

Jesus, Elijah! You KNOW I care. You know how much I care. What do you want me to do? Torture myself by hanging out with you and your girlfriend? Watch the two of you snuggling while my heart breaks in two because I want to be the one holding you? I am NOT avoiding you! I’m avoiding the pain that I feel when I’m around you.

I’m looking over my shoulder as I write this e-mail to be sure Chris hasn’t tiptoed into the room. It’s not like she doesn’t suspect how we feel about each other.

Or… at least how we FELT.

:(

* * *

Text message from Elijah: Don’t shout.

* * *

Text message from Elijah: FELT?

* * *

Text message from Sean: I still feel the same, Elijah. But I can only speak for me. PS: You’re shouting.

* * *

Text message from Elijah: You have one fucking interesting way of showing it…. fucker.

* * *

Text message from Sean: Right now I’m actually more of a NON fucker.

* * *

Text message from Elijah: Serves you right.

* * *

Date: Fri, 16 January 2009 21:45:12  
To: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
From: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
Subject: Look…  
Message:  
… here’s the deal. Chris and I are barely speaking. The atmosphere around here right now is, to say the least, poisonous. She’s been this way for months, Elijah, and the root cause of it is her suspicions about you and I. That’s the reason I’ve been avoiding you.. and yes. I’ll admit it. I’ve been avoiding you.

You know I don’t want to. But that’s the main reason why I HAVE to.

* * *

Text message from Elijah: I’ll e-mail you later.

* * *

Date: Sat, 17 January 2009 00:14:08  
To: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
From: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
Subject: Sorry.  
Message:  
Couldn’t write sooner. Was swamped. And I needed to think about what you said.

>> I’ll admit it. I’ve been avoiding you.

Thank you for at least being honest, Sean. I don’t know if you remember, but when we were in NZ we made a promise to always be honest with each other no matter what. The fact that you were avoiding me didn’t hurt me nearly as much as hearing you deny it and hand me a bunch of phony fucking crap insinuating I was imagining things when I knew damned well I wasn’t.

>>You know I don’t want to. But that’s the main reason why I HAVE to.

That makes absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever. Now you’re just rationalizing. It’s convenient to ignore me. Nothing more. Convenient to whitewash over the fact that you KNOW you’re avoidance hurts me. To pretend my pain doesn’t exist. To refuse to listen to the voice inside you that is TELLING you the truth about how I feel and how wrong it is for you to treat me this way.

No one is asking you to betray your wife. Are you suggesting you can’t be my friend without fucking me? Is that all it was for you, Sean? Fucking? Are you telling me that it’s wrong to betray her but OK to betray ME??

You’re still rationalizing. Acting like you can’t help how you treat me or that I’m over-reacting to being totally blown off.

This whole thing sucks.

And… so do you.

Fuck off, Sean.

* * *

Text message from Sean: Please don’t be angry with me. PLEASE!

* * *

Text message from Sean: Elijah, I’m sorry. Please.

* * *

 _A week passes in absolute silence. Then..._

* * *

Text message from Sean: Elijah?

* * *

Text message from Elijah: What?

* * *

Text message from Sean: I love you.

* * *

Text message from Elijah: Sure you do.

* * *

Text message from Sean: Can I call you?

* * *

Text message from Elijah: No. I’m busy. And I’m not alone.

* * *

Text message from Sean: ok.

* * *

 _Three days later._

* * *

Text message from Sean: :(

* * *

 _Two hours later._

* * *

Text message from Sean: :(

* * *

Text message from Elijah: Knock it the fuck off.

* * *

Text message from Sean: No. :(

* * *

Date: Wed, 28 January 2009 17:22:16  
To: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
From: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
Subject: Jesus!  
Message:  
What the fuck is wrong with you? First you ignore me while pretending you’re not ignoring me. Then when I tell you to go ahead and ignore me because I no longer give a fuck… you won’t stop sending me your sad fucking faces in TMs!

What the fuck do you want, Sean?

* * *

Date: Thurs, 29 January 2009 08:12:09  
To: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
From: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
Subject: What the fuck do I want?  
Message:

I want you.

I’ve always wanted you. You know that. You knew it the day we met. You have a brilliant mind and you’re the most intuitive person I’ve ever known. You know my mind.. you always have. And you know my heart. You know it better than anyone.

I want YOU.

Please, don’t be mad at me. Not that I think you really ARE mad at me. I think you’re hurt and I don’t blame you. I just don’t know what to do, Elijah. I don’t know what to DO!!

Was it just a ‘fuck’?? Are you serious? How can you ask me that? Jesus fucking Christ, Elijah, you were THERE! You know what it was to me. Did I ACT like it was just a ‘fuck’?

Please say you’ll forgive me. I do love you. I love you more than anything or anyone.

That’s what I want.

I need to send this now before I start to edit and revise it because it sounds too wimpy and needy and sappy and…. has terrible grammar.

* * *

Text message from Elijah: It WAS pretty sappy.

* * *

Text message from Sean: My sap-o-meter doth overflow.

* * *

Text message from Elijah: Stop making me laugh, fucker.

* * *

Text message from Sean: Can we PLEASE talk on the phone?

* * *

Text message from Elijah: No phone. Your voice hath charms.

* * *

Text message from Sean: I promise not to be charming.

* * *

Text message from Elijah: Unavoidable.

* * *

Text message from Sean: That’s sweet! And almost not angry! I have hope.

* * *

Text message from Elijah: Getting on plane. Phone going off. Will write later.

* * *

Text message from Sean: Be safe. Write soon. Please.

* * *

Text message from Elijah: Will. To both.

* * *

Date: Sat, 31 January 2009 01:19:15  
To: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
From: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
Subject: I’m sorry too.  
Message:  
I shouldn’t have yelled at you. But I don’t like having to chase you down to find out what the hell is wrong. I don’t like not fucking knowing where I stand with you.

I understand that people’s feelings change. And if your feelings for me have changed, then fine. You say they haven’t. But right now, Sean, I’m not sure what to believe. It’s easy to SAY ‘I love you’. But then you walk away and ignore me for weeks on end. What would you have done if I hadn’t kept e-mailing you? Gone on ignoring me? For how long? That’s love? Not in my book.

I’m sorry about you and Chris. But I’m not taking responsibility for it. We talked about this, Sean. Many times. When we were in NZ you asked me to be your lover. I was reluctant because I know how you are and I didn’t want to fuck up what we had. But you told me again and again that you could handle it. That you wouldn’t be overwhelmed with guilt. That it wouldn’t affect our friendship. But it HAS affected our friendship. And bottom line? That DOES piss me off. That you’d let something as relatively immaterial as sex come between us. That you’d let the fact that we fell in love and became lovers ruin a rich and wonderful relationship. I would have walked away from the sex part, Sean. I can live without it. But you didn’t give me a choice. You didn’t even talk to me. You just took YOU away from me. And I’m not sure how easy that will be to forget or forgive.

I’m being as honest as I know how.

What do you want, Sean? And don’t say ‘you’. That’s not what I want to hear. And besides that it’s not true.

Elijah

* * *

Date: Sun, 01 February 2009 03:05:15  
To: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
From: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
Subject: It’s 3 in the morning.  
Message:  
I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner.

Elijah, your e-mails only nudged me in the direction I was moving in anyway. If you hadn’t sent them, I would have written to YOU. I’ve wanted to for a long time but, frankly, I’ve felt embarrassed to do it. I’m ashamed of how I’ve been acting. It was cowardly to ignore you that way. To ignore your phone calls and your e-mails.

There’s a security that surrounds my life with Chris and the girls that has been a cocoon of safety for me. Until I had them I don’t think I ever in my life felt truly safe. Ever. When she threatened to divorce me I panicked. It took me a long while to let go of the fear and understand my own heart. What I wanted.. what I needed.

But, Elijah, I know now. Nothing, NOTHING, means as much to me as you and I do. Nothing. I know I haven’t acted it. I know that. And I don’t blame you for doubting me. I know I’ve fucked up the trust between us. But I’m willing to earn it back if you’ll just give me a chance.

Do you remember the first time we made love? We were in the back of a truck, of all fucking places. But god, Elijah. The moment I touched you the truck disappeared and I was in the most exquisite paradise imaginable. I’d never felt anything like it. Ever. I’d wanted you for months. You knew that. But nothing had prepared me for what I felt that night. It wasn’t sex, Elijah. Please don’t call it that. I’ve had sex. This was so far beyond anything I’ve ever experienced with anyone else EVER that it took a very long time for me to fully understand it.

But it’s not sex, Elijah. It never has been. It is the most profound love I’ve ever felt. More than I thought I ever could feel. And it has never changed. Not from then ‘til this very moment.

I feel as though I’m at the most important cross-roads I’ve ever experienced. At a turning point in my life. I know you can’t help me. I know I have figure it out myself. I know I don’t even deserve your help at this point in our relationship.

But, Elijah, I’m asking you to please, PLEASE see me. Please just talk with me. You don’t have to make love with me, though I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want that with all my soul. But just to have you close to me, just to hear your voice. If I could have that I wouldn’t ask for more.

Let me earn your trust again. I need you, Elijah. And I love you.

PS. I didn’t look over my shoulder once.

* * *

Date: Mon, 02 February 2009 11:22:44  
To: Sean seana@seanastin.com  
From: Elijah woode@simianrecords.com  
Subject: Morning  
Message:

>> PS. I didn’t look over my shoulder once.

Well there’s a break.

Sean, let me think about all this. Give me a few days. I didn’t know she’d asked for a divorce. I didn’t know it had gone that far. But right now I’ve got relationship responsibilities too that I don’t want to fuck up. Let me try to think this through.

I’ll write to you soon.

* * *

Text message from Sean: Have you decided yet?

* * *

Text message from Elijah: It’s only been an hour, jackass!

* * *

Text message from Sean: Felt like more.

* * *

Text message from Elijah: Stop. Please.

* * *

Text message from Sean: Ok.

* * *

 _Five days later._

* * *

Text message from Elijah: All right. I’m home. Come over.

* * *

Text message from Sean: Jesus! I’ll be right there!

* * *

Sean sat uneasily in his car listening to the tick of the cooling engine, wondering if Elijah had spotted him in the driveway. He clutched the steering wheel in white-knuckled fingers fighting desperately to shake off his anxiety.

“Jesus!” he finally spat out, disgusted with his own fear and reluctance. “This is insane.” He forced himself out of the car, walked to the door, and knocked. Elijah answered almost at once.

“I wondered how long you were going to sit out there,” Elijah said casually, ushering Sean into the living room.

“Sorry,” Sean muttered, aware that he was staring at the floor, unable to look up. He felt paralyzed. The thought of meeting Elijah’s eyes was unendurable. Finally he managed to stammer, “I was nervous about coming in.”

“Why? This is the meeting you’ve been begging me for.”

“I know,” Sean said. He drew in a deep breath, once again forced himself to take courage, and raised his eyes. Elijah was standing not two feet away. He was staring directly at Sean and the intensity of his gaze hit Sean with the impact of a blow. He swallowed hard. “Lij,” he began, then hesitated. “Elijah, I…” he stopped again.

“Well, that’s certainly an auspicious beginning,” Elijah said, grinning. “Sit down, Sean. This doesn’t have to be all that hard.”

Sean watched in silence as Elijah moved to the couch and lazily sat down, crossing an ankle over a knee, one arm stretching out against the couch back. Sean was captivated by the pose. The muscles of Elijah’s arm stood out in sharp relief against the couch. The long, lean body seemed to taunt him and lowering his gaze he drew in a deep, trembling breath.

“Sit down,” Elijah said, nodding toward the couch.

Sean nervously sat down at the other end of the couch then turned half sideways to stare at the young man seated so close to him. Now, somehow it was harder not to look at Elijah than it was to simply gaze, and Sean drank in the sight of him, feeling lost in reawakening emotion. “Elijah,” he breathed. “God. My god. _Elijah._ ” Sean’s face broke into a radiant smile as he felt joy spring to life within him, sudden and immediate. Elijah’s nearness was overwhelming. Sean could see nothing else… feel nothing else. The room disappeared. Elijah’s presence dominated the space around them and Sean lowered his eyes again, struggling to draw in a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he finally choked out, lifting his face.

Elijah’s head was tilted and he looked at Sean thoughtfully through uplifted eyes and long, dark lashes. The force of his gaze touched the very center of Sean’s being and he slowly reached for Elijah, feeling almost drunk with the intensity of the love and longing that filled him.

“Now, now,” Elijah said, smilingly eyeing Sean’s outstretched hand. “None of that. We’re just supposed to talk.”

“Oh,” Sean said softly. “Oh, no. I wasn’t going to...” he lowered his hand. “I mean – I didn’t mean to…” he shook his head. “I know. I know you don’t want to make love. That wasn’t what I…” He sighed. “I just wanted to touch you.” He felt sudden tears burn his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “Elijah, if I lose you I just don’t know what I’ll do. This whole thing with us… not seeing you… turning away from you the way I did..” He took a deep breath. “It was a kind of torture. A kind of…” He shook his head as if struggling for the right way to frame his thoughts. “A kind of self-punishment.”

Elijah nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. “That much was obvious.”

“I was afraid of where my love for you was leading me. But now the only thing that frightens me is the thought of losing you.”

Taking courage and feeling that he really had no choice, Sean leaned forward and drew his hand slowly down Elijah’s arm as it lay stretched across the couch back, finally capturing Elijah’s hand in his own. “I’m not asking you for anything,” he murmured. “Honest to God I’m not. Just to touch you for a second.” He watched Elijah’s eyes as he slowly drew that perfect hand to his lips and kissed it. Those eyes never wavered from his own and his hand lay, unresisting, in Sean’s.

“Can you forgive me?” Sean asked, struggling to speak through the ache in his throat. “Can you let me try to win your trust back again? Can you believe that you’re all I want and need?”

“If I didn’t think I could do that do you really think you’d be here?” Elijah asked him. “Did you think I brought you here just so I could dismiss you in **person**?”

Sean lifted Elijah’s hand to his lips again and as he did his tears fell onto it. His mind flashed to a passage from _Lord of the Rings_ when Sam’s tears fell onto Frodo’s hand. “Sam did this once,” he whispered.

“What did he do?” Elijah asked.

“He…” Sean began, then shook his head. “Just… nothing… he just… he cried,” he stammered. “It’s nothing.”

Elijah's fingers brushed quickly against Sean’s cheek. "It's not nothing. None of this is nothing. It all matters, Sean." He took Sean’s hand in his and laced their fingers together. Neither spoke. But somehow now, after all the messages and all the e-mails and all the conversation, speech had become unnecessary. As they stared into each other's eyes they felt the current that had always run between them, rich and vibrant, spring to life again. They felt that current bind them, merge them, join them in a union that was as deathless as the stars.

"Can I stay?" Sean whispered finally.

And Elijah showed him that even the most important answers one could give in life didn't always require words.


End file.
